


In-Laws

by CraftyWhovian



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:19:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6172504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CraftyWhovian/pseuds/CraftyWhovian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You’ve been dating Dean for a while now. Two days ago you decided to tell your parents, despite Dean’s protest. Your parents demanded that they meet this Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In-Laws

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo! I wrote this a really long time ago, but I just wanted to share it on here. I don't really write Reader-Insert anymore. -_- Nonetheless, hope you enjoy!

“Dean, I have to tell them!” you said. You had been dating Dean for five months, and have yet to tell your parents.

“Are you sure?” Dean said, “We have no idea what they would think!”

“But, they’re my parents!” you replied, “Besides, they’re hunters too.”

“Didn’t they want you to stay out of the hunting life? To keep you safe.”

“Once they meet you, they might change their mind,” you persisted.

“Fine,” he said, “When are you going to call them?”

“I’m gonna to call them now,” you said as you pulled your phone out of your jeans pocket. Dean watched as you scrolled through your contacts. You selected you mother’s number, and put the phone up to your ear.  It rang three times, than your mother picked up the phone.

“Hello?” your mother yelled. There were shouts in the background. She must be on a hunt, you thought.

“Are you on hunt?” you asked.

“Yeah, what’s up?” she shouted.

“I just needed to tell you something,” you replied, “But it can wait.”

There was fire crackling on your mother’s line. They must have burned the bones, you thought.

“Hunt’s over now,” you mother said, “Now, what did you want to tell me?”

“I uh, met someone,” you muttered.

“What!?”

“His name is Dean, Dean Winchester.”

“Where are you? Your father and I are coming over,” your mother stated.

“We are in Lebanon, Kansas, in our bunker,” you answered. You mother hung up, and you replaced your phone in your pocket. You looked up at Dean, and saidm ” They’re coming over.”

“When?”

“She is coming over as soon as she can. She didn’t sound too happy when I mentioned you name,” you said, sitting down at the table.

“Great,” he replied, and sat down across from you. “I guess they have heard of me.”

“I’m sure it will be fine, Dean,” you comforted.

Dean nodded, “Let’s get cleaning, we have no idea when they will be here.” Dean started to pick up the plates from breakfast, and bring them to the kitchen. You followed suit, brought the cups to the sink. You had no idea how this was going to go. How long were they going to stay? What were they going to think about Dean? What were they going to say when they found out you were back in the hunting life? Pushing the thoughts aside, you continued to clean the bunker.

xxx

Turns out your parents were very close to Kansas. They arrived one day later. There was a knock at the door, and you ran to answer it. Dean slowly followed. When Dean was at your side, you opened the door. Your mother and father greeted you, and walked in.

“So this is the Dean I was hearing about?” your father asked.

“Yes!” you said.

Dean extended his hand, and said, “Hello sir.”

Your father grunted and shook Dean’s hand, “Hello.” Your mother shook his hand as well, her handshake especially firm.

“Do you want something to drink?” you asked you parents. “Water? Beer?”

“Beer,” your father replied.

“Water, please,” you mother said. You walked towards the kitchen leaving Dean alone with your parents.

xxx

Dean’s Point of View

Dean watched as you left the room, leaving him alone. He turned back to you parents.

“Are you a hunter?” your mother asked.

“Yes,” Dean answered.

“And you hunt with Y/N?” you father asked. Dean nodded, unsure how they would react. Your father stepped towards Dean, and said, “If anything happens to Y/N when you two are hunting, I will find you, and teach you lesson. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” Dean answered, surprised by his sudden aggression.

“Good.”

“Care to give us a tour?” your mother said.

“Of course,” Dean answered. _This was going to be a long weekend…_

xxx

It had been three hours since you parents arrived at the bunker, and there had already been two threats from your father. He asked many times about the bunker’s protection, and warding.

“Dad, this place is completely safe,” you assured your father. “The Men of Letters know what they were doing.”

“Men of Letters?” your mother asked.

“They were a secret society, that focused on the supernatural,” Dean explained.

“I see,” your mother said, “Where are they now?”

“They are gone now,” you replied. “They died out a while ago.”

“Oh.”

Your father took a sip out of his almost empty beer. He was sitting at the library  table. You, Dean, and your mother were also sitting at the long table.

“So Mom,” you started. “How long are you going to stay? We have a place for you two to sleep tonight.”

“I think we might leave tomorrow morning. There is a hunt out in Maryland,” you mother answered.

“What are you hunting?” Dean asked.

“Not sure,” your father said. “We don’t enough information, just a couple weird deaths in the area.”

There was a awkward silence for a couple seconds. Dean shifted in his chair. _Well this is awkward_ , he thought to himself. It lasted for a couple more seconds before your mother spoke.

“What are all these books about?”

“Mostly on how to kill monsters,” Dean said. “They were crazy about filing everything.”

“There is a whole room just about the members of The Men of Letters!” you added. Dean put an arm around you. Your father clearly didn’t like it. _Who cares what he thinks. You do, idiot. Crap. What now?! What should I say? It’s getting awkward…_

xxx

_Later…_

You held the warm bag of food in your hand. The grease began to soak through the brown paper bag. You shifted your hand, and put a hand underneath it. You didn’t want to drop it.

Your feet hit the cold pavement. The street lights illuminated your path. The Impala sat a couple a feet down the street. Behind you was a small, family-run burger restaurant. You left to grab Dean, and your parents some dinner.

You thought that Dean was doing great. Your parents were just really protective sometimes.

You heard foot steps behind you, and turned around. You could barely take in all of their features, but the gun in their hand. Before you could move away, the gun was pointed at you. You put your hands up, the bag still in your right hand.

“Wallet!” they shouted. _The one time I didn’t bring your gun, someone mugs me,_  you thought.

“How about you put that down?”

_“_ No,” they said again. “Money now.”

You knelled down to set the bag down on the ground. They cocked the gun in response. “Calm down, just setting this down.” You set the bag down, and put your hands back up, as you stood.

“Hurry up.”

“Just wait,” you replied. You took out your wallet, and threw it on the ground a couple feet in front of you.

“Give it to me,” they said, motioning to the wallet with the gun.

“You really shouldn’t wave the gun around like that.”

“Now.”

You slowly walked towards the wallet, and picked it up. You proceeded to throw it a foot in fount of you, still out of reach of the mugger.

“Hand it to me,” they demanded. You picked up the wallet again, and walked towards the mugger. You raised the wallet in your hand. They reached for the wallet, the gun still pointed at you. Just as they were about to grab it, you hit the gun out of their hand. You punched them in the face, and grabbed their right hand. You twisted it painfully behind their back. They jerked their head back, and hit you in the throat, and took the wind out of you.

While you were trying to regain your breath, they grabbed the gun off the pavement. They shook as they shot you in the shoulder. They turned tail and ran, giving up on stealing your wallet.

You clutched at your shoulder, and tried to stop the bleeding. The pain shot through your body. Your head was spinning. You stood up, you didn’t remember falling on the ground.

“Coward!” you shouted. You looked around for your wallet, and picked it up. You returned it to your pocket. You grabbed the bag of food, and stumbled to the Impala. Blood was dripping down your left arm. You sat down in the car. You needed to stop the bleeding, but you couldn’t think straight. _Dean…Bunker…Now,_ you thought.

The drive to the bunker was short, but it seemed like forever. You stumbled to door, and fumbled for the keys. After fifteen seconds of trying to unlock the door, it opened. Dean heard you struggling to open the door, and was in the hallway. You waved at Dean, as he rushed towards you.

“Oh, jeez Y/N!” Dean said. “What the heck?” He took off the flannel and wrapped it around your shoulder. He guided you to the table where your parents were sitting. You parent rushed towards you when they saw the blood.

“Y/N!” you mother said, inspecting your shoulder.

“I’m fine,” you slurred. Dean sat you down in a chair, and took off your shirt to better examine the wound. He pushed his flannel on your shoulder, to try to stop the bleeding for a second. The bullet went through you, so Dean didn’t have to dig it out.

“How did this happen?!” your father asked.

“I was mugged,” you slurred.

“Just wait,” you mother told your father.

“Keep pressure on it,” Dean ordered. “I’m going to grab the first-aid kit.”

Your father put his hand on the wound, and kept pressure on it. You hissed at the pain. “Sorry,” your mother said.

Dean returned with the kit in hand. He placed it on the table, and opened it.

“Keep still Y/N,” he said.

Dean took the flannel off, it was soaked with blood. “Not good,” he muttered.

“Is she okay?” your mother asked, hovering over you.

“I just got shot,” you slurred. Your head was sort of fuzzy, and your limps were heavy. You just wanted to curl up and sleep.

“She just lost a ton of blood, but she will live,” said Dean. He began to stitch up your shoulder. You grimaced, but kept still.

“Bit more warning next time Dean?” you asked through gritted teeth.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m going to dig a needle in your bullet wound, and stitch it together,” he said sarcastically. You glared at him, as he started the next stitch. By, the third stitch you were ready to sleep for a week.

Dean wrapped it with bandage, and left the room. He returned moments later with a new shirt for you to wear. He helped you put the shirt on, and was careful not to touch the new bandage.

“Food’s in the car,” you slurred.

“Okay sweetie,” you mother said, nodding.

“I’m gonna go sleep,” you muttered. You stood up, and black spot invaded your vision. After ten seconds, it passed.

“Do you need some help Y/N?” you father asked.

“No, I’m fine,” you slurred. You walked towards your room. You stumbled once, but you caught yourself of the stone wall. Dean followed you the entire way, just a few feet away. When you got to the bed, you flopped onto it.

Dean stood in the doorway, leaning on the door frame. “I love you,” Dean said.

“I love you too,” you mumbled, already half asleep.

xxx

Your head was pounding, and your limbs were heavy. You didn’t want to get up. Then you remembered that your parents were here, and slowly got out of bed. If you went any faster, you would get horrible head rush. You still had your jeans from yesterday on.

Your shoulder ached, but you ignored it, and put on a different shirt. You picked a plain white shirt. Just in case the wound opens up and starts to bleed, you would be able to see it easily. You changed into some dark jeans. You grabbed a plaid flannel from your closet, and put it on. It was light blue, with dark blue, and white stripes.

You quietly walked to the bathroom. The cold tiles sent silver through you. You made a mental note to put some socks on when you get back to your room.

When you reached the bathroom, and switched on the light. Your toothbrush sat on the porcelain sink, alongside the half used toothpaste. You grabbed your toothbrush. Still half asleep, you almost poured the soap on the toothbrush. You stopped yourself, and grabbed the toothpaste.

Once you were done, you grabbed your hairbrush. You quickly brushed your hair. You slowly walked back to your bedroom. You grabbed some socks, and put them on.

You slowly walked down the hall to the kitchen. The smell of bacon wafting over you. Dean was in front if the stove tending to the sizzling bacon.

“Hey beautiful,” Dean said, when he saw you walk in.

“Hey Dean,” you replied, blushing.

“How’s the shoulder?”

“Fine,” you answered, “What are you making?”

“Just some pancakes, and bacon.”

“Yum!” you said. “Where are my parents?”

“They are in the library. They slept in the extra room last night.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” he turned back to tend to the sizzling bacon. The kitchen was filled with the smell of bacon, and pancakes. You left the room to find your parents.

They turned to face you when you entered the room.

“How are you feeling sweetie?” your mother asked. She stood up, and strode to your side. She started to inspect you shoulder.

“I’m fine Mom,” you said, stepping out of her reach, and walked towards the table. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine, once we knew you were alright,” your father replied. He had five books spread out infront of him on the table. Each one of them looked old, and worn. _Must be from the Men of Letter’s library,_ you thought.

“Are you researching for that hunt?” you asked.

“As best as I can without being at the scene of the crime.”

“Need any help?”

“Na, I’m good,” he answered, turning back to the books. He didn’t seem to worried about your shoulder. He used to say that if you can walk then you’re fine. Your mother on the other hand was quite the contrary. She had a tendency to baby you when you are hurt, or sick.

“Breakfast is ready!” Dean called from the kitchen. You strolled to kitchen, and expected your parents to follow suit.

xxx

The rest of the weekend went fine. Your parents seem to be satifised with Dean, and his ability to take action. Right before they left, your father pulled Dean off to the side. You had no idea what they were talking about, but it was anything fluffy, based off of Dean flustered face. You, and Dean locked hands as they left. It filled you with determination.


End file.
